


The Ghost Of You

by cafedanslanuit



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood, Character Death, Death, F/M, Mentions of War, War, World War II, the ghost of you - mcr inspired this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafedanslanuit/pseuds/cafedanslanuit
Summary: A love story between a man with a mysterious job and a nurse during the Second World War. “And all the things that you never ever told me and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me. Never coming home, never coming home.”
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel & Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel & Reader, 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	The Ghost Of You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Tiếng Việt available: [The Ghost Of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29400957) by [nhathoang_cute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhathoang_cute/pseuds/nhathoang_cute)



> This idea came up while listening to The Ghost Of You by My Chemical Romance and watching The Imitation Game. ~

i. 

In a way, it was good feeling numb.

Being a frontline nurse for the second great war was definitely a time when you would want to feel numb. I could no longer feel the pain in my overworked body, smell the stench of death or cry when we lost yet another soldier. Make no mistake, I still did my best. In fact, I think not being able to feel anything anymore is what granted me the serenity to treat soldiers the best way that I can. My mind goes over my medical knowledge, not really listening when they start to cry about their families or loved ones who are waiting for them to return from the war zone.

Waiting. Waiting is such a terrible thing to do.

The anguish of knowing it’s been hours and he still doesn’t show up, the stressful ticking of the clock and the way your whole brain is screaming something bad has happened, but you have no clue on what it is or what you should do to avoid it. Or if you can even avoid it by the time you’ve recognized the danger.

I heard one of the other nurses calling my name just as I was closing the eyes of the soldier who had just passed away in front of me. She was kneeling over another body, short of hands to stop the bleeding coming from different parts of the soldier’s body. I could only see his closed eyes since most of his face was covered by the fabric the nurse was using to put pressure on his wounds.

“You sure he’s alive?” I asked. She nodded frantically, tending to a large wound on his left thigh. Judging from the extent of the wounds, he wouldn’t be for a long time. Still, I knew she was young and had just joined us a week ago and had the idea of fighting until the end.

I sighed and kneeled beside her, taking a bandage to try and stop the bleeding from his arm. As I did so, I uncovered the soldier’s face.

It was like an explosion.

In an instant, my body became aware of the shootings happening in the distance. The screaming of men against men buzzed in my ears and I realized how badly my head was hurting. I could even listen to the other nurses’ cries.

Seeing him--- no, _recognizing_ him was like coming up the water and breathing for the first time in ages. But it couldn’t be him. There was no way it could be him, I thought before pulling off the soldier’s helmet. The minute I saw the untamed red hair, my whole body started shaking, feeling like my mind was playing cruel tricks to me.

It was him.

But it couldn’t be… not here, not now.

I called for an extra nurse as I tended to his arm, my eyes fixed on the face I thought I would never see again.

ii.

Beer, like me, is mostly an acquired taste. That was why, for weeks, I would only look from afar to the handsome red-haired man that always sat at the same table at the bar and scribbled notes on his small notebook for hours. He wouldn’t drink anything else but soda, making me wonder why he even bothered to come to a bar if he wouldn’t have any alcohol. My plan was to wear my best dresses and have him notice the girl who had been giving him heart-eyes for the past few daysr. Maybe he would invite me to his table, we could start talking and getting to know each other. Sadly, my plan failed, as he never seemed to look my way. I ended up being the one to sit at his table and introduce myself.

I wish I had approached him earlier. Just imagining I could have had another two weeks with him is enough to make me smile.

Conversation flowed naturally, even if the first thing he did was hide his notebook from me. Well, all writers are reserved, I guessed. He laughed like a kid and his smile was so contagious, even hours later, tucked into bed, I would smile whenever his memory popped in my mind.

The first encounter turned into a daily occurrence for another week. Friday came again and I asked him to go for a small date with me the next day. He pouted and explained he still had to go to work.

“Your work at the radio station is seven days a week?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in suspicion. Saeyoung scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile.

“Money’s tight, so I take every shift I can,” he explained.

“So you use your only free time to work on your novels?”

“Novels?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Yes, in your notebook?” I pressured, tilting my head to where his notebook was now resting on the table under his elbow. Saeyoung looked down and let out a small laugh.

“Right, the novel. It has a long way before it becomes one,” he shrugged, putting the notebook back in the inside pocket of his jacket. I followed his hand movements and then took a long swig of my beer.

“It sure does when it’s not a novel at all,” I commented, licking my upper teeth. I noticed how his face tensed up, so I waved my hand in front of him, trying to dissipate his fears. “No, no, don’t worry. I won’t ask. But going back to my previous inquiry, I was really looking forward to seeing you outside of this bar. Not that I don’t like you’ve been paying for my drinks this past week, but…” I chuckled. “Maybe dinner, when you’re not working… _at the radio station._ ”

I was hoping he would understand that by mentioning his alleged workplace, he would understand I was not going to pressure him for any more answers. He probably worked a low-end job and didn't want to discuss that with me. It probably had gone south with his previous lovers, I thought. The subject didn’t really matter to me. I had a good job at the hospital as a nurse, so I wasn’t really looking for someone who could support me. At that moment, all I wanted was to spend more time looking into his big, golden eyes that had lured me from the beginning.

The first time Saeyoung kissed me was outside his house. He had taken my offer to get dinner together and had called my home number that very same Sunday to ask me to join him at a nice restaurant. As I put on one of my best dresses, I couldn’t stop thinking about the restaurant he had picked. There was no way someone with a low-end job could afford dinner for two there.

But I had promised not to dig into it. He didn’t seem to be the kind of person that would be involved in dangerous situations, and unless that notebook was actually a chequebook of drug deals he had done, I thought I wouldn’t need to worry. I knew it was naive to be so trusting of a person I had just met, but I guess you’d have to be in the situation I was in for it to make sense.

It wasn’t love, of course it wasn’t love. Not at first, at least. But the sound of his laugh, the way his eyes sparkled and the way he leaned forward whenever I talked just felt like home. Everything made sense when I spent time with him. I had read about soulmates before, and still to this day. I don’t know if that was the case. I just knew my place was by his side and if that meant I wasn’t supposed to ask what he did during the day, then so be it. I could live with that.

The first time Saeyoung kissed me was outside his house. That was also the moment I found the place where I was always supposed to be.

iii.

I made a home out of his house.

Messy was an understatement. I wasn’t able to comprehend how Saeyoung had been living by himself all this time. There was no food in the fridge other than bottles of soda. I had already figured out he had money, so it didn’t make sense why he didn’t hire a maid. He worked on scribbling notes on different notebooks, his eyes never leaving the paper while I tried to organize his house. I wouldn’t have done it for any other man. But there was something about him that compelled me to help him in any way I could.

I wish I was lying when I say I even found a dead mouse Saeyoung insisted was his friend. He picked up the body with a small pout and put it in a shoebox, so he could leave it later at the park. ‘He needs a proper burial. I’ve pulled so many all-nighters and it was nice to hear his squeaking every once in a while to keep me company’. What started as a disgusting discovery ended up making me realize how lonely he really was. I asked him about his family, but he just said he had been on his own for a lot of years and it was better that way. The forced smile that accompanied his words told me otherwise.

“It’s an unnerving big bed for a sole person,” he had commented one day, as he nuzzled his face on the crook of my neck. I listened to him as my fingers played with his red locks, twirling them and the letting go. We had spent the morning lying close together, neither of us wanting to get up.

“Then why did you buy it?” I asked. I felt his nose let out air as he chuckled.

“I didn’t. I didn’t pick anything in this house,” he confessed, pressing a kiss on my neck.

“What? Then who did?”

“I’ve said too much already,” he whispered, pushing himself up on his forearms and hovering on top of my body. He looked down at me and leaned into my hand when I cupped his face.

“You’re really not gonna tell me what you do for a living, huh?” I asked with an amused smile. He shook his head with a mischievous grin before peppering my face with small kisses, making me laugh until my stomach hurt.

Our days were full of laughter. The only thing I had to do was never ask about what he did for a living. And as the days went by, I even forgot it was even a mystery. I longed for the times we were together, the private slow dances we would have at his living room and the way the moonlight made his pale face look heavenly when he slept by my side.

I loved him.

And by the way he woke me up every morning with a kiss, I knew he loved me as well.

iv.

Saeyoung didn’t show up that night.

We were supposed to meet at the bar at nine, but it had been an hour and no one had seen him. I asked for more beer and sighed as the minutes went by. It wouldn’t be the first time he arrived late, I told myself, as the beer seemed to get stuck in my throat. Anxiously, I tapped my fingers on the table, my leg shaking under the table. He definitely hadn't been this late before.

I couldn’t shake the bad feeling something had happened. But even if he had been mugged on the street or had a bad day, I knew he would still come to find me. The taste of alcohol quickly became repulsive as I kept on waiting.

Before I knew it, I was grabbing my purse and walking to his house, taking the fastest route. He probably had fallen asleep after work or plainly forgot about our date. Even if that would ignite a small quarrel between us, there was nothing I wanted more at that moment but to be able to fight with him.

Nevertheless, the moment the door opened on its own when I knocked, I knew something was wrong.

I was welcomed by broken plates scattered over the floor and the coffee table turned upside down. All the drawers were opened and some of them were even lying on the ground. My brain screamed for me to turn around and leave, and I think that was the last time it led me away from danger.

I can’t really remember anything until my scream when I found a Saeyoung’s body covered with blood on the bed, presumably unconscious. I ran to him, and tore his shirt open, trying to find the source of the bleeding. My breath caught up in my throat when I found not one, but several open wounds, continuous flow of blood coming from them. I frantically tried to stop them, using a shirt on the floor to apply pleasure to give him more time until we got to the hospital.

Saeyoung whispered my name, his eyes slowly opening up as I tried to assess his injuries.

“Don’t worry, okay?” I said, trying to muster a small smile. “Once we get to the hospital I can help you”.

“No,” Saeyoung coughed, grabbing my wrists and trying to stop me.

“What do you mean no?” I asked, finding yet another source of bleeding.

“My cover is blown. Doesn’t matter if I die now."

"It matters to me! Let me take you, please, maybe I can--"

"You were the love of my life," Saeyoung interrupted me, a weak smile playing on his lips. My hands stopped my full attention on his words. "You made me happier than I ever thought I could be. I mean this. But… it's part of the job I took. I've accepted this is it," he said. Before he could continue, he started coughing, his whole body shaking as he winced in pain. The shirt I had used to stop his bleeding was already drenched in blood.

"No. No, I can't. I have to do something, please," I begged as tears started rolling down my cheeks.

Saeyoung shook his head. His hands found mine and squeezed them gently.

"Stay with me?" he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. I bit my bottom lip, failing at trying to wake up from the horrid nightmare I was in. Defeated, I nodded and sat next to him.

Carefully, I held him close as I laid on his bed. His head was resting between my neck and chest and my arms were around his shoulders, holding him tightly against my trembling form.

“What the fuck do you do for a living?” I sniffled. Saeyoung chuckled, nuzzling his face against my neck.

“We have a machine that can decrypt enemies' messages. I am part of a team that uses that machine,” he explained. Immediately after, he squinted and let out a long sigh. “You can never tell anyone this. I shouldn’t have…”

“I won’t say a thing,” I assured him, pressing a kiss on the top of his head.

“Wait until the war is over, okay? Stay… stay alive. With the work we've done, it shouldn't last much longer. Just don't ever say anything about this."

"I won't. I won't," I whispered.

I don't know how long I held him in my arms. My hands went from stroking his hair to rubbing soothing circles on his back, trying to somehow make him feel comfortable as he got closer and closer to his end. My tears had stopped without me realizing it, the feeling of emptiness replacing them. The long goodbye of the love of my life was slowly taking away the last bits of hope of happiness I had left.

“I’m scared,” he suddenly muttered, his voice a little broken.

“Don’t be. It’ll be like falling asleep. You’ll be okay,” I assured him, holding his body against mine. He let out a shaky breath, his fists closing against my blouse.

Softly, I started humming the song he always chose first whenever we danced together. I always thought it was his favourite but I was stupid enough to never ask.

Damn the whole country and every other country involved. Damn the presidents, the world leaders using peace as an excuse to use people as replaceable chess pawns. Damn anyone who made him feel it was okay to die for a bigger cause. Damn the people who were taking him away from me, along with my only chance of happiness and would never face the consequences for it.

"You'll be okay," I repeated as I stroke his hair. "You'll be okay and we'll move to the countryside. We'll get a small house, just for us. You can get a job as a teacher in the church's day school and I'll leave my job as a nurse to take care of our own family. And when you come home, I'll greet you with your favourite soda and a big smile, okay?". I felt him nod against my chest and I continued my humming.

For the longest time, I focused on the sound of his breathing, shallow and weak, until I couldn’t hear it anymore. I cried as I held his body tighter, feeling as if I were to let him go, then he would be really gone. I screamed, not caring if anyone would hear me. I think I secretly hoped someone did, hopefully whoever did that heard me and finished me off once and for all.

When I finally managed to calm down enough, I gently turned his body, still resting on top of me, and laid him on the bed. There was a big bloodstain on my blouse that was already sticking to my skin, but I couldn't bring myself to care about it.

I got the chance to look at his face. His eyes were closed, but there was a hint of a smile and a peaceful expression I had never seen before in people dying from similar causes at the hospital.

He embraced death with the peace he had never lived in.

v.

It was him.

The sole reason why I had left my job at the hospital and enlisted to help out soldiers in the war zone. His death had pushed me to ask to be on the front lines. The feeling of not caring if I lived or died another day was empowering rather than terrifying. If I died, at least I could get to see him again.

We carried him to the nurse's station and a doctor took over the case. No one dared to mention my sudden uneasiness and constant check up on the soldier we had brought back. Maybe they all thought it was an act from the beginning. For me, it felt like an awakening.

Almost at the end of dawn, I noticed him moving his arm, shuffling in his gurney as he tried to take the bandage off. I quickly stood up from the chair I had spent the entire night on and ran to him. His eyes were closed and his face was contorted in a painful expression. I softly moved his hands away from the bandage, securing it after I did so. I explained where he was and what had happened to his arm, trying my best to ease his confusion. I took the chance to fix the bandage around his head, and for the first time, he opened his eyes.

And that was when he looked at me.

With his bright, _teal_ eyes.

"Am I going to lose the arm? You look disappointed," he grunted. I straightened my back and shook my head.

"You will recover fully. I will get the doctor now," I explained, turning my back at him and leaving.

Outside the tent, I felt as if a bucket of cold water drained on top of me, numbing once again any trace of emotion I had dared to revisit in the past twelve hours.

I needed to finally wrap my head around it.

I'd never get to greet him home.

He was never coming back.


End file.
